


I'm Dreaming Of...

by samanthalo



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: 12 Days of Kristanna, F/M, Kristanna, Not-So-Modern AU, White Christmas AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthalo/pseuds/samanthalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*White Christmas AU/12 Days of Kristanna submission* A struggling sister act with inauspicious beginnings, two successful, over-worked producers running low on steam and one mountain inn trying to celebrate the holidays with no snow. They're going to need some Christmas magic - and a little bit of love - to pull this one off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A studio apartment sounded very glamorous when the idea was first presented. A cozy little space, all their own, with a magnificent view of the southside. Within ear range of the bells of the small and charming corner church. Top floor, practically penthouse living, Hans had cooed into her ear as he led her and Elsa through the back of the lounge, past the half-naked girls dressing and primping for their opening number and the rough-and-tumble stage crew with their smashed cigarettes and hidden bottles of whiskey. One of the hands belched loudly as they passed, his bleary gaze just barely catching on their brushed woolen pea coats, so out of place in the vast array of glitter and gauzy tulle. Of course, she’d believed him with very little effort. Everyone knew the Westergard family in this part of town. It made all the sense in the world that he’d have some enviable properties tucked away for just this very purpose. She followed him blindly to the office, distracted by thoughts of luxe white chaise lounges and cashmere throw pillows, shag rugs and gold lamps.

“You’re willing to let us stay there? Just for playing dinner shows?” Elsa inquired once the door had shut. Anna distinctly remembered elbowing her in the ribs for her skeptical tone. An apartment and a gig didn’t always present themselves together, at the same time. And, as an added bonus, never from such a handsome and well-connected beau as Hans Westergard. He smiled at Elsa but curved a gentle, possessive hand around Anna’s waist. Even through the thick material of her coat, she could feel the heavy promise in his probing fingertips.

“But, of course! We take care of our performers, especially ladies as lovely as you two.” He winked at her in secret and Anna melted like chocolate on a warm summer day.

“We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Elsa?” Elsa did not share Anna’s enthusiasm, but in the end, she did agree. They arrived at the apartment with all their luggage only to find it’s amenities had been…slightly embellished. A cockroach crawled over the toe of her boot before Anna had even taken off her coat. It disappeared somewhere beneath the torn orange leather sofa sitting lopsided in the very center of the small open room. A cool breeze was blowing through a golfball-sized hole in the window, making the hideous yellow, threadbare curtains whip against the sill. And then there was the so-called view. She and Elsa both surveyed that with stunned, wide-eyes. For as far as one could see, it was just factory chimneys and water towers.

“Well, at least it has a couch?” Elsa rolled her eyes and set her trunk down heavily beside the three-legged dinner table. A racket of noise exploded from beneath their feet. She could just make out horrid shouting, the sharp thwack of a broomstick under the floorboards. Dust and little chunks of plaster rained down on them from the ceiling.

“I can’t believe we left Aunt Gerda’s for this.”

“Oh come on, Elsa, it’s going to be wonderful! We’ve done nothing but play small, no-name venues since graduation. It’s time we start thinking bigger!”

“Bigger, huh?” Elsa’s mouth quirked and she tipped Anna’s traveling hat down over her bright eyes. “You won’t be satisfied until our names are in lights, will you?”

Their names were technically in lights already. The Westergard Gardens had a small marquee by the valet parking lot. Hans had promised it would announce their sister act every night they graced the stage. It wasn’t the glimmering bulbs Anna had caught glimpses of on the flashing television screens. She supposed, however, as she pulled on her nylons each night, that it was a decent start. They could certainly have done worse than run into Hans. Elsa didn’t seem to like him very much, but to Anna, he was ever the very example of a perfect gentleman. And, well, he was rich.

“I’m sorry about the apartment,” He apologized after their first performance concluded to half-hearted applause, “I’ve been so busy, I didn’t get to check it over after the last tenant moved out. We’ll fix it up right away.” He held her hand and ran a soft thumb over her cheek. Was that butterflies in her stomach? Anna could feel something fluttering around just behind her navel, something that made her breathless when he touched her.

“O-oh, thank you. It’s fine, really, I-”

“Now, you don’t worry, Anna, I’ll handle everything. Just keep being the most beautiful girl on stage.”

A chorus girl snorted at her mirror. Hans didn’t seem to hear. He cupped her chin once more before turning on one graceful heel and disappearing back towards the lounge offices. For a moment, Anna forgot where she was. Was this love? The thought chased her for the rest of the evening, even through their set. She slipped halfway through when she caught Hans partaking of a cigar at the bar and watching with intent interest. She never slipped on stage.

“Hans said he’s going to have this place fixed up for us.” Anna told Elsa that night as she relaxed on her side of the mattress they’d acquired from the consignment shop down the block and fawned over a fashion magazine she’d saved in her luggage. Aunt Gerda thought magazines, especially fashion magazines, were frivolous. She’d nearly thrown all of Anna’s hidden stash away when she’d found them beneath her mattress. Anna loved the pictures and the dresses. There was such an artistry to fashion that seemed almost incomprehensible, which just made it all that more beautiful and magical. She especially loved the glamorous, handsome men, whether they were the sharp-looking actors posing for the camera or the perfectly drawn gents of the Arrow collar ads. 

“Wonderful. Can you ask him for a couple more pots while he’s feeling generous? We’re running out.” Elsa, working diligently at the crooked, cracked cupboards that denoted their kitchen, shoved a sauce pan beneath a steady drip from the ceiling. She rolled her eyes when Anna just nodded, staring dazed through her own reflection in the window, idly turning the pages of her forgotten magazine. 

“Anything for you, my dear.” Hans had said when she told him about the leaking roof the next day. When the repairman had still not come two weeks later, she chalked it up to Hans being very busy and not making the call. He was, after all, the general manager of the lounge. That was a big job with way more responsibility than Anna believed she could even imagine. It just made her stomach flip all the more when he’d check in before their number and press a quick kiss to her cheek while Elsa’s back was turned.

“Of course. Anything for my star.” Hans had said when she asked about a new dressing room mirror. The next day, she noticed that one of the chorus girls’ now had their lopsided, warped mirror and they had the her tall, plain one. Elsa kept her comments to herself. The chorus girl glared at them whenever they passed.

“Anna, you don’t even have to ask. Whatever you want, its yours!” Hans had said when she mentioned she and Elsa would soon need new costumes. He offered to personally attend the fitting with a private seamstress, as soon as he was able to schedule the appointment. 

It was enough for Anna that every promise with accompanied by a soft kiss and a little ‘Love you, doll’ whispered with elegant diction into the shell of her ear. It was enough that he gave her something to dream about when the apartment was dark and she and Elsa were squashed together on the mattress on the floor and the sound of tiny legs scurrying somewhere around them kept her awake. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised when it finally came time for him to ask something of her.

Hans always carried the stub of a fresh cigar with him. One could smell it far before seeing it. It was a sharp scent. Cloves, Anna thought, when he lightly exhaled, the smoke rolling and curling through his nostrils. It had all seemed so sophisticated when she first saw him do it. Exotic, even.

He arrived to their room that night with the cigar, the smoke billowing from his nose and a glass of amber scotch sloshing about in his hands. He seemed to stumble a bit against the doorframe but by the time either she or Elsa had looked up, he’d smoothly recovered.

“Elsa, the band leader wants to talk to you about the number.”

“We’ve already talked this evening.” Elsa didn’t even look up from strapping on her low heels. Anna continued slowly applying her mascara, careful to lift upwards with the brush to give her lashes that perfect curl.

“I would suggest going to see him again. ” His tone was cordial, but tight. Anna peeled herself from the mirror and narrowed her eyes slightly as Hans deliberately set the scotch down on the vanity. Elsa straightened, tugging at the bodice of her gown, and eyed him suspiciously. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

“It’s alright, I can get my hair curled on my own.” Anna cut in. She offered her sister a placating smile. Elsa simply narrowed her eyes and stalked out of the room. She left the door open. Hans very quietly closed it after her. Anna pretended not to hear the click of the door jamb as it set into place. Or the slide of the lock after it.

Instead, she pulled at the loose, limp strands of her hair and smacked her bare lips. Hans did not move or speak.

“Sounds like a full house tonight. Just imagine what it will be like after Thanksgiving. Elsa and I have been practicing our ‘Santa Baby’ and I-” She began to babble, suddenly unable to stand the pregnant silence in the room, stopping short when she felt his slim body slide up behind hers. His hands came up to cup her shoulders. The cigar, ever burning, stung her eyes.

“Oh, Anna…” Hans breathed before bending down to press a wet, open mouth to the side of her neck. Anna froze. She loved Hans, but…something felt off. She pressed herself up as far as she could into the vanity, hoping that he may get the hint, but he just pushed himself closer, curled his arms around her tighter. His teeth came down hard on her shoulder and she cried out.

“Hans, stop-” He turned her around roughly so she could no longer watch him in the mirror as he touched her.

“Elsa will be back soon. Don’t fuss.” He pressed his lips firmly to her own. Anna tasted scotch for the first time. 

“Hans, wait. I don’t,” She struggled away from his face as best she could, “Can we please just-”

“What, Anna, talk?” A mocking, cruel chuckle worked its way up his throat. “That’s all we’ve been doing. You don’t think I hired you and your sister just to listen to you yammer, did you?” His words had a sharp edge to them. Anna was unprepared. She shrank backwards in confusion. Hans did not retreat. “You love me, don’t you?”

“Well, I-”

“Then give me what I want.” He growled low into her face as he once again moved in for a bruising kiss. This was not how the movies went, she thought with a sinking feeling in her gut. Their teeth gnashed together between his sloppy slurps and her tight-lipped resistance. She felt a sharp tug on her hair as he pulled her head back roughly. His unoccupied hand began to dance dangerously close to her breasts. A

“No.” She ground out, lifting a knee between them, forcing Hans to back off. He released her with no questions asked. Her head snapped back, the muscles in her neck sore from being stretched in such a manner. Breathless, Anna glared up at him as he straightened his collar and shoved the damp end of his cigar stub back into his mouth as if he hadn’t just tried to force himself on her.

“I’m disappointed in you. I thought you would have had what it takes.”

“And I thought you loved me.” She snapped back.

“Oh Anna,” He chewed on the words with delight, “If only there was someone out there who did.” He downed the scotch and slammed the glass in the trash can beside her. It broke with a sharp, piercing sound that Anna felt moreso than heard. Hans took one last chance to blow his acrid smoke in her face before unlocking the door and disappearing into the hallway.

Anna turned shakily back to the mirror, blindly groping on the vanity for her lipstick. Only when she was done, did she realize she had changed colors. Instead of her usual blush pink, she had chosen a bloody red that paled her face and brought out of her eyes, wide and steady despite the hammering beneath her chest.

Elsa returned to find Anna a statue poised before the mirror.

“You haven’t curled your hair yet.” Elsa started fussing immediately. She dragged Anna over to the stool where the curling iron was plugged in, still hot. “What’s with the lipstick? Did you accidentally grab the chorus girl’s-” She stopped when she pulled a handful of Anna’s hair out of the way and found fresh, angry marks on her sister’s skin. “Anna?” Her voice was firm as her fingertips ran over the injury.

“I think we need to find a different gig.” Anna’s voice cracked. Elsa dropped the curling iron.

They sang Christmas carols with the staff at last call. While the patrons downed their last glasses of wine and whiskey, Anna and Elsa lead the chorus in a jaunty rendition of ‘12 Days of Christmas’. She knew Hans was watching from behind the bar when her voice rang out through the din.

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

Three holes in the roof, Anna thought as she and Elsa quickly undressed after the closing number.

Two painful memories, Anna thought as Elsa laid her cool hands on the searing bite-mark.

“I talked to Aunt Gerda this morning,” Elsa whispered as they laid together on the mattress. Her hands curled through Anna’s hair, practiced and gentle, and Anna thought of their mother doing just the same. Except, her time with Mama was never rudely interrupted by the wailing of sirens in the street below. Or the hair-raising scuttle of rat legs between the walls. She and Elsa still flinched when they caught the sound of unseen, scurrying paws. Anna closed her eyes once more and settled into her pillow. It still smelled like Aunt Gerda’s. Cinnamon, a touch of vanilla.

“Oh? How is she?” Her throat was still thick with emotion. She shut her eyes and snuggled tighter against Elsa’s small body.

“She’s good. A little lonely, I suspect. Uncle Kai is working overtime at the hotel.” Anna nodded.

“Maybe she won’t have to be lonely for very much longer.” There was a long silence. Elsa did not move for a time. By the time she pulled away, Anna was too drowsy to protest.

“What about bigger and better things?” Elsa asked quietly.

“Oh, we’ll get there,” Anna’s words broke on a large, irresistible yawn, “Maybe not tonight.”

It was quiet for a long time. The steady drip of water was just beginning to lull her to sleep, the promise of tomorrow lingering just beyond her lids, when Elsa fidgeted a bit closer. She could feel her lean over her hunched shoulders.

“There’s something else.”

“Mmm?”

“Aunt Gerda told me that she just heard from an old friend that runs an inn in up north. He’s looking for an act over the holiday season. She gave me his number.”

“What?” Anna sluggishly came back to herself. She slowly turned around beneath the covers. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to, but,” She paused, all flushed cheeks and sheepish shrugs, “Well, I already called him.”

“You did? What did he say?” Anna couldn’t contain herself. She rose quickly to her knees and reached for Elsa’s hands, still hovering on her pillow. This could be their chance. Elsa remained silent, but Anna could tell she was all a flutter just beneath the surface. Her lips were curled in tight against her lips. She grasped Anna’s hands in hers and gave them a little shake.

“We’re hired. Aunt Gerda already said she would help us pay for the train fare.” Anna could only watch in amazement as her sister stood and twirled around the nest of comforters and cushions that created their bedroom. It wasn’t too long before she found herself laughing along and she joined Elsa in a rollicking polka through the kitchen and around the three legged dining table.

“We leave tomorrow night!” Elsa gushed. “Oh, Anna, can you just imagine it! The north country in December…Snow and skiing! It’ll be just like old times-” She stopped short, her eyes growing wide at her words, but Anna just giggled and wrapped her sister in a tight hug.

“It’s going to be amazing! An inn, with real bedrooms and a beautiful stage! With no leaking roofs or infestations!”

“I’m leaving the pots exactly where they are. The roaches can stay too!”

One brand new start, Anna thought as they stood and began a rollicking polka around the studio loft. The wretched witch that lived beneath them began to pound on the ceiling before they’d even completed one round, but that only made them laugh harder.

“To hell with her!” Elsa shrieked, stamping with gusto, and Anna joined her.

“To hell with him!”

“To hell with everyone!” They cackled and danced and dreamed of snow-covered hills, ice-capped mountains, a beautiful stage beside a massive stone fireplace where families sat, warm and happy, while their voices lifted into the rafters and everywhere there would be happiness and cheer and music.


	2. Chapter 2

“We know her.” The weather felt too warm for December. Kristoff grimaced at the early morning humidity. Already, his collared shirt was beginning to grow uncomfortable and moist around his neck and arms. Thankfully, he’d had enough sense to leave his leather jacket back at the hotel. With the temperature hovering around a balmy 58 degrees, he certainly had no use for it.

“Oh, do we?” He responded dryly when Sven smacked his arm for the third time.

“Yep. I’m sure of it.” Kristoff raised an eyebrow and looked towards the peeling poster haphazardly plastered on the brick wall. Sven was eyeing it critically, his chin jutting out as it was wont to do when he was in deep thought. The girls were hard to see in black and white, the texture of bricks warping their already muddled features, but Kristoff stopped and joined Sven in taking another glance. Neither of them seemed very remarkable. Just another couple of pretty girls trying to sing for a living. Kristoff rolled his shoulders.

“Which one?”

“The blonde.”

“It’s a black and white photograph.”

“Yeah, but with the white,” Sven huffed and jabbed a thumb at the lithe figure on the right, “Her.”

“How do you figure?” Kristoff eyed the poster dismissively. It was an advertisement for some sister act at a local lounge. He scoffed. The Westergard Gardens didn’t sound or look like the kind of place he’d pick to spend a nice evening. Not that they had a lot of free evenings anymore. Which made those choices all the more important.

“The hospital. Back home” Sven murmured. He pushed the brim of his scruffy cap up to scratch at the peak of his forehead. “When we were kids. Remember?” Kristoff grimaced slightly.

“Maybe. A lot has happened since then.”

“Alright, be stubborn, but I know what I’m talking about.” He left the poster behind and they set off down the avenue. Early morning kept the crowds away and they could sneak out for a coffee without being recognized or mobbed. Despite the awful weather, it was rather peaceful. Kristoff could appreciate the call of birds from the distant beach, the way the moisture in the air gave everything a magical, hazy feel, even if he didn’t exactly like how it felt soaking his clothing. A few older men and women passed by them, laden with groceries or the morning’s paper. They nodded polite hellos to those who acknowledged them. They moved out of the way to make room for elderly ladies in their church hats. Kristoff liked the easy silence and he knew Sven didn’t mind it either.

The show was done. The cast was ready to be dismissed for their holiday break. They deserved a holiday after the marathon they’d run to make it the roaring success it was. Kristoff sighed and took a deep breath. At least someone would get a break. The next production was already in the works and he couldn’t afford to waste any time making sure everything would be ready to go for the mid-winter season. His thoughts turned to the music sheets waiting for him back at the hotel. Empty music sheets. He’d never have thought that such a trivial piece of paper would become the be-all-end-all of his waking life, but now that the war was over, his worries no longer centered around bullets or little noises in the night, the color of someone’s uniform or the style of their helmet. He was now crafting catchy melodies and pinning it all together with words that meant very little in the grand scheme of things. But he was about as good at that as he was being a soldier and nobody wanted to pick up a gun anymore or drive around a tank. It was a living, he thought with mild scorn, and as long as he and Sven could be comfortable and send something back home for the family, he’d keep going.

“We should go see the act tonight.” Sven suddenly piped up. Kristoff abruptly broke out of his reverie. He came to a screeching halt in the middle of the crosswalk, oblivious to the changing traffic lights.

“What?”

“Get out of the road, you dust head.” Sven hooked an arm around his elbow and pulled. “It’s our last night in town. We should catch the sister act before we get on the train.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kristoff muttered. “We’ve got work to do. I’ve got work to do-”

“Work, work, work. That’s all you ever do!” Sven grumbled, turning an excited eye to the world around them. “Let’s do something fun for once, besides just going and getting coffee. You know you need a break,” Kristoff opened his mouth to dole out a snarky remark “I saw the sheet music, Kristoff. Or lack thereof.”

The smart comment died in his throat. Kristoff averted his gaze, trying to hide the abashed flush heating his cheeks.

Writer’s block was something that happened to other people. Even when he wasn’t feeling incredibly inspired, he could still put ink to paper and make it sound halfway decent. When some of the other writers on staff would start bemoaning their constipated creativity, Kristoff would roll his eyes and put nose to the grindstone. If you were determined enough, nothing could stop you. Or so he thought until finally confronted with the reality that he was completely and utterly stumped.

“You’re working too hard,” Sven elbowed him in the ribs, features going soft, “We’re going to go out tonight, have a drink or three, and say hi to an old friend in the business. And you’re going to relax for the next 48 hours.”

“And what about our train?”

“Oh, that’s easy. We’ll take our tickets and luggage along. Pay a cab to wait around for us. It’ll just be an hour or two.” Sven grinned widely and did a little two-step around a lamp post. “I’ll finally get to wear my new suit!”

-

The Westergard Gardens was everything that Kristoff imagined it to be: Dark, dank, smokey and altogether deeply unsatisfying. The doorman had cared little about his manners as they shuffled through the lobby with the rest of the rag-tag crowd. Mostly men, he noted, alone and without accompaniment. He worried for a moment that they had picked the wrong lounge until he’d spotted the name written out in stuttering neon-lights just above the main theater. The hostess showed them to their table with a bored, grim attitude. They’d barely gotten situated in their seats before she shoved a frayed menu into their hands and stalked away. The waitress hadn’t been much happier. The brunette, tired bags under her eyes, wrote down their choices without a peep and disappeared quickly after her scribbling ended. 

"She didn’t even ask if we wanted food." Sven muttered in amazement, staring down at the menu. Kristoff snorted and set his own aside.

"She probably did us a favor."

The waitress did eventually come back with their drinks and Sven did finally get her to take a small order of assorted appetizers, though she looked rather annoyed when she tried to scurry off only to be stopped.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank-" Sven began only to stop when she turned and melted into the surrounded tables. "Well, how do you like that?"

"This act better be worth it." Kristoff shifted in his chair, feet sticking to the parquet floor, and tried to avoid the rather raucous chorus number taking over the floor. Sven, dapper in his latest threads and enjoying a tall mug of beer, was following every kick, turn and sashay of the girls with eagerness. His eyes roved each step of the routine until the orchestra wrapped up and played the smiling women off the stage.

“It wasn’t bad choreography, really,” He whispered as the curtain haltingly slid shut, “A bit dated, but well executed.” They both winced at an especially loud squeal of metal on metal.

“They’re wearing the minimum amount of sequins needed to maintain their modesty.” Kristoff sourly replied. The house lights came up almost imperceptibly and a new round of flouncy-skirted cigarette girls began weaving between the tables with their wares. He waved one away before she even opened her mouth. Sven shot him a look, but he keenly ignored it with a sip of his own drink. Gin and tonic was apparently not the bartender’s specialty. It was mostly tonic. Shame, he could have used more gin tonight.

“They’re chorus girls. They’re supposed to be covered in sparkle and not much else. You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to take interest in a girl now and then. People are going to start talking if you keep running around without a ring. Not to mention, Ma-”

“Don’t even start. I know you two are in league with each other.” Kristoff grumbled. Sven simply shrugged.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

Kristoff gave a low growl, “Oh, yes you do. You’ve both been scheming for years now. We don’t have time for girls,” He made a point to lightly kick Sven’s shin beneath the table, “Which means we don’t have time to be sitting here waiting for a couple of them, either.” Sven winced a bit, leaning down to rub the spot where Kristoff’s pointed toe had bumped into.

“Hey, watch it-”

“Gentlemen, may I?” They both started slightly as a third party slipped in at the empty seat at their table, not waiting for a response. The man was thin, his slight frame only accentuated more by the stark white tuxedo he’d buttoned himself into. Kristoff tried not to scowl at the puff of cigar smoke billowing from his face. The cloud dispersed and revealed the man’s long, aristocratic face, framed by low-hanging reddish sideburns.

“Evening, sir.” Sven greeted the newcomer politely, inclining his drink towards the man’s scotch.

“Evening to you both. Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Hans Westergard, general manager here at the Gardens,” His handshake was limp and clammy. Kristoff surreptitiously wiped his hand on his pants leg afterwards, “It’s an honor to have such esteemed guests at my establishment. If you had made yourselves known, I would have gotten you a finer table.”

“Thank you, but this table is perfect. We’ve just come to enjoy the night’s entertainment.” Sven continued to speak for them both. He was much more comfortable with that role than Kristoff was. He’d always been the more outgoing of the two of them. A cocktail waitress breezed by. He motioned for another drink; something told him he was going to need one.

“Another gin and tonic, please. And tell the bartender to go easy on the tonic this time.” He accompanied his words with a decent tip. The cocktail waitress watched in slight disbelief as he slid the folded bills into her apron pocket.

“We’re between acts.” Hans waved over a nearby cigar girl. He pulled two stogies from her box, then waved her away dismissively. Kristoff looked over just in time to watch her roll her eyes and go about her business.

“Oh? What about the sisters being advertised?” Sven declined the offered cigar with a worried glance. “We were hoping to catch them-”

“Yes, they’re still here, but I’m afraid we’ll be ending our contract with them soon enough. It’s time for some fresh faces. You understand. Out with the old, in with the new and all that.” His words rolled off his tongue too easily, like oil. Kristoff couldn’t contain himself any longer. Shooting Sven an irritated look, he twisted in his seat to face Hans for the first time that evening.

“When will they be on?” Hans seemed somewhat taken aback by his abruptness. If he was terribly surprised, he did a good job of covering it up. His face a mask of total control, he twirled a cigar towards Kristoff in offering. Kristoff plucked it from his fingers and set it down firmly on the wrinkled white table cloth.

“Any minute. Forgive me if I’m speaking a bit boldly,” His wolfish green eyes focused on him with surprising force, “Of all the acts you could have seen, why the sisters?”

Neither answered. The cocktail waitress arrived with his second gin and tonic. The bartender had certainly taken his words to heart. It didn’t taste like there was any tonic in this concoction at all. The gin sparked the entire way down his throat.

“It’s a long story.”

“We’re old friends.” Sven said suddenly. Hans’ thin eyebrows shot up.

“Oh? Strange, they never mentioned having such a…lucrative connection.” He leaned back in the chair, the backrest squeaking beneath the weight. On stage, the lights began to dim. Sven excitedly leaned across the table and shook Kristoff’s arm. He just nodded, swallowing the small lump growing in his throat.

It’s just an act, he thought as the curtains parted to reveal a pair of women clad in the most amazing shade of blue. It wasn’t quite the sugary, powdered blues so on trend this year. It was richer than that, a nuanced color that reminded him of clear, cold morning skies above sleeping, winter forests. They pivoted carefully on their heels. A practiced move, Kristoff deduced, by the easy grace exhibited in the execution of the movement. As the orchestra hit its first, harmonized note, the women lowered their feathered fans and rose demure, glittering eyes to the audience.

Their combined voices drifted out over the crowd. Kristoff lost some of the finer notes in the low laughter and ribald commentary emanating from the tables nearby. Still, they had beautiful tones and their harmonies sent a small shiver racing up his spine. He very pointedly ignored Sven, knowing his brother was undoubtedly casting furtive glances his way. He could make those faces all he wanted. No one was going to pay him any attention.

He studied the blonde first as the girls made their way through the routine. She did look familiar now that he could see her in the flesh, but still a lot different than the frightened little girl from his memory. She was taller than the other, a little more in control of her movements, but where she was technical perfection, the petite redhead was all performance. Her steps were not as precise or sharp. He quickly forgave her that. His attention shifted as they swung closer to the edge of the stage and he had a clear view of her face. She was singing for all she was worth, her blue eyes shining in the clear stage lights, nearly the same hue as their dresses.

“How about those baby blues?” It was Sven’s turn to kick Kristoff under the table. He huffed and grumbled beneath his breath. Hans sat between them, quiet and sullen, rolling the smoldering cigar stub between his fingertips. Kristoff glanced back at him as the number ended and the girls curtsied for scattered applause. Hans did not join them in clapping.

“What did you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts. It’s not everyday I have such talent in my company.”

“Well, I’m more of a dancer myself. But my brother Kristoff would love to give you his critque, I’m sure. Excuse me for a moment while I run to the restroom.” Sven shot him a quick wink. Kristoff had to fight to keep his frustrated comments to himself. That wink could only mean trouble. Sven darted off between the tables without another word. He twirled gracefully around the other patrons on his way towards the restroom, until veering off towards the backstage door. Kristoff cursed under his breath. He should have known.

“How do you know Anna?”

“What?”

Hans was observing him closely over folded hands. Perceptive, Kristoff noted, even if he was a jack ass. An opportunist, more than likely, but one without good intent. A shoddy general manager from the state of disrepair the club was in and the depressive state of the staff. His attention shifted for a moment to the peeling, molding wallpaper in the very top corners of the ceiling.

“I don’t know Anna.” This seemed to pique Hans’ interest. He nodded slowly, processing the information without hurry.

“So you know Elsa?”

“In a way.” He knew her like he knew the leather grain in the bench seat of Pa’s rattling Model T the night they’d had to drive Ma to the town clinic, which was to say, not very well.

It was late. Or maybe it was early. Pa had woke him and Sven gently. The world was dark beyond the window. He remembered being gathered into strong arms, the soft warm body of his brother butting up against his own. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Pa to come and get them like this. They only had the one car. Ma certainly couldn’t walk all the way to the clinic in the dark, and they couldn’t leave them alone in the house for who knew however long. Emergencies, he learned soon enough, had no time limits.

The drive was a dark blur. He had been nodding off. Sven was snoring in his ear. Then, there were lights, low and yellow, and Pa carried into the clinic. There was a little bench just outside the examination room, where Pa set them down, heads lolling together. Until they noticed a shivering little form standing propped up against the wall across from them. A girl with hair so blonde it was white and a very dark red stain on the front of her dress.

"It was a long time ago." Kristoff finally muttered, glancing towards the back stage door and wondering just how much longer he was going to have to stall.


	3. Chapter 3

Anna found it hard to catch her breath as she and Elsa raced back to their dressing room through the crowd of chorus girls, “We’re making good time!” She glanced back at her sister. Elsa had already tucked her folded fan up beneath her arm and was working with nimble, gloved fingers to remove the bobby pins holding her curled hair in place.

“Come on, we have to get our luggage yet.” Elsa reminded her gently. They pushed onwards until they’d reached their room, where they set about quickly scrubbing themselves clean of the caked stage makeup and rouge lipstick. No one would know they were gone until it was time for the final number. By then, there’d be nothing left in this dressing room but that wretched mirror and the crumbling vanity.

Anna imagined Hans’ face when someone rushed to tell him they were gone. Would he lead the final carol of the night? She doubted it. He’d pull someone out of the chorus. Maybe he’d even give them the studio apartment they’d left behind.

I thought you had what it takes, he’d said to her with a sneer.

Oh, but I do, she thought as Elsa helped her button up the back of her skirt, We both do and we’re going to make the most of it. They unearthed their hidden suitcases and travel bags from the cluttered wardrobe. Even if someone had been lurking around while thy were on stage, they would never have found anything beyond the veritable wall of dresses, boas and shoes. She’d briefly considered taking one or two of the less used frocks or maybe another set of heels, in case something happened to hers. But she wasn’t that petty. Let the Westergard Gardens keep their smelly wardrobe. It was all out of style anyway.

“Do you have the tickets?” Anna asked breathlessly as they shrugged on their coats. The next chorus number would be starting soon. There would only be a few minutes to make a dash out of the backstage door before the crew came around.

“Yes, in my pocket.” Elsa tugged her purse over her head so the strap fit snugly around her chest. “Are you ready?” They both cast one last look around the dressing room.

“I think so,” Anna took a deep breath and met her sister’s eyes, “Yes.” There was a small part of her that was going to miss the little hole in the wall. It was their first gig. Even if it was a crummy one, it still meant something. She reached for Elsa’s hands as she worked to pull on her old caramel-colored gloves.

Elsa smiled and laced her fingers with Anna’s.

“Let’s go.”

Elsa went first. Suitcase in hand, braced against her hip, she peered out of the dressing room, looking up and down the hallway for any sign of the crew or the girls. The chorus number’s opening notes blared out from the stage, but the curtain was still closed. They waited on impatient, itching legs as the crew began to yank on the pulleys and the light of the stage lights spilled onto the generic backdrop.

“Now?” Anna whispered, working her travel hat down over her bangs.

“Now.” They scurried out into the blackened corridor, the glow from the stage giving them just enough light to make out the door leading to the back alley. The black painted walls soaked up so much of it. Anna felt like she was walking down a black hole. She glanced back behind them as Elsa fumbled with the door knob. They were still alone. The door swung open with a screech. Loud, blaring horns and rubber tires on wet pavement filtered in to mix with the shaky trumpets and warbling strings. Elsa motioned Anna to go and she rushed past, tring not to hit Elsa’s knees with her luggage. She winced when Elsa let out a little gasp.

“Sorry-”

“Go!” Elsa cried, pushing Anna the rest of the way out into the alley. She stumbled over the little cracked cement step just outside. Elsa was already pressing against her back. Anna frowned and peered back through the thin crack in the door just before it slammed shut on its springs. A tall, thin shadow was stalking down the hallway straight towards them.

Hans, she thought with a chill. How had the little bastard known?

“Anna, come on!” They took off down the alley, dodging old milk crates and the errant trash can. One of the stage hands was smoking on the fire escape. He called out to them, but they kept running. It was imperative to make it to the street as soon as possible. Once they were in a taxi, they’d be homefree all the way to the station. Hans wouldn’t be able to get to them on the train. Elsa cleared a broken pallet and Anna tried to follow. The toe of her boot caught one of the sharp edges. She went down hard on the uneven pavement.

“Ouch!” She muttered, looking up in horror to find her suitcase had popped open. It was vomiting clothing out into the dirty concrete, including her underwear. “No, no, no!” She shot forward and began to hastily shove everything back inside. Elsa had helped her pack everything neatly so the latches would lock. Now, no matter how much she pushed, they simply wouldn’t close. She should have left more at Aunt Gerda’s.

“Get up! We’re almost there!”

“It won’t…shut!” Elsa knelt and pushed Anna’s hands out of the way.

“Here, let me-”

“Hey!” Someone had emerged from the Gardens’ back door. The stage hand, still smoking, coughed and pointed towards where they were huddled over Anna’s suitcase. He whistled when Anna reached for a far-flung pair of her knickers.

“Over here,” He hiccuped, “Putting on a show!” Anna looked around for something throw at him.

“Never mind, we have to go!” With one last heave, Elsa pressed on the top of the suitcase. By some insane stroke of luck, the latches popped into place. Anna could have cried with relief. She grabbed the handle and stumbled back to her feet, grimacing at the wet spots spreading across her coat. They took off at a blistering pace for the street, rounding the corner into the chaos that was the boulevard, unaware of the tickets jostling out of Elsa’s pocket and blowing back into the alley.

-

“The Gardens was my father’s first establishment. He owns plenty of others in town, but everyone knows this is the crown jewel. It’s flagship property.” Kristoff looked down at his third gin and tonic. It wasn’t packing as much of a punch as he’d hoped. The chorus number was in full swing and, from what he could tell, it wasn’t that much different than the first. Lots of high kicks, lots of leg. Of course, every other male was entranced. The man next to him almost appeared to be drooling. Kristoff had to take a second look.

“We’re still the most popular lounge on the boulevard, thanks to my expertise.” Hans continued to boast and smoke. Sven had not yet reappeared. Kristoff briefly considered stabbing himself with one of his cufflinks to have a reason to be excused.

“You don’t say.”

“Absolutely. With the most loyal patronage. Imagine,” He scooted closer, the scent of scotch radiating off of him in waves, “Imagine the kind of audience we could offer. These people come here every night. They have a love for the arts.” Kristoff snorted despite himself. He turned his eye back to the man beside them, clearly oogling the chorus’ girls low-cut bodices.

“Yeah, I can see that.” At that moment, the backstage door popped open and Kristoff noticed Sven’s head bobbing out of it. He hopped his way back over to the table, a thin layer of sweat peppering his brow. He didn’t sit or move to pull out his chair.

“We really ought to be going.”

“That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all night.” Kristoff griped under his breath. Hans popped up. The long ash of his stogey fell just beside the ashtray.

“So soon?”

“Yes, terribly sorry, something just came up,” Sven skipped around to Kristoff’s side and hauled him to his feet, “Thanks for the lovely evening, Heinz!”

“It’s Hans.” He heard him mutter as Sven shot off towards the lobby. Kristoff allowed himself to be dragged to the glass doors out to the lot, then shook off his brother’s clutching grip.

“Where the hell have you been? I can’t believe you left me with that moron for as long as you did.”

“Not now. Where’s our cab?” Sven raced to the valet station.

“Sven, where’s the fire?” He was ignored. Kristoff watched with growing frustration as Sven exchanged quick words with the acne-ridden teen working the booth. The boy nodded and pointed towards the end of the driveway where a bright yellow cab was waiting. Sven smiled brightly.

“Come on!” Before Kristoff could respond, he’d taken off at a full sprint for the cab. Sometimes, he wondered why his brother had not chosen to run track and field instead of take up dancing. He could have been the fastest kid out there. Kristoff caught up just as the cabbie had turned on car. The engine rattled under duress.

“Alright,” Kristoff panted, situated in the back seat with Sven, “First, you want to go out and relax and catch up with some dames who don’t even know us. Now, you’re making me run full speed for our own damned cab!” Sven turned, out of breath, and held up a pair of train tickets, wet and wilting. Kristoff immediately felt for the tickets in his inside pocket. They were still there, dry and safe. He narrowed his eyes at the stamped destination.

“Pine Tree? Where the hell is Pine Tree?”

“Where the girls are headed.” Sven replied matter-of-factly. Kristoff rubbed his eyes.

“The girls.”

“Yes. The girls. And if we don’t make it to the station in time, they’ll miss their train.” Sven relayed all of this information as if there was simply nothing at all strange about this turn of events. Kristoff, for his part, was trying very hard to maintain his composure. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and did his best to imagine himself already fast asleep in bed. Sure, the train car would be noisy and the bed wouldn’t be as comfortable, but it certainly wouldn’t be the Westergard Gardens or the smelly back seat of the cab.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Why not?”

“Really, Sven,” Kristoff opened his eyes and pinned Sven with somber eyes, “Why are we doing this?”

“We know them!” Sven exclaimed. But there was something beneath his excited visage. Something sad. Kristoff exhaled slowly. “We know them.”

"We’re not going to Pine Tree with them."

Sven just smiled.

-

The train station was practically empty when the girls threw themselves through the heavy wooden doors and into the festive concourse. The attendant behind the ticket booth jumped a little as they stormed past. Their momentum knocked over one of the fake little trees guarding the propped up by the booth.

“Hey, watch it!” The attendant cried, but they were already out onto the platform.

“Oh, thank goodness. We made it in time!” Anna gasped. She set her suitcase down with a heavy thud and spun dazedly around. Wasn’t there a bench somewhere around here? Her legs were aching from all the running they’d had to do. She really needed to start walking more. Elsa was similarly winded. She was doubled over, clasping her knees.

“It should be here any minute.” She glanced up at the clock. “I can’t believe we actually got here so quickly.”

“We did do a lot of running.” They shared a breathless giggle, jumping when a distant whistle cut through the air. “Here it comes! Pine Tree, here we come!” Anna picked up her suitcase and bounced over to the edge of the platform to try and see down the tracks.

“Be careful. You want to get on the train, not get hit by it.” Despite her warning, there was a air of laughter in her voice that only made Anna feel more giddy. Elsa tried so hard to keep everything together, sometimes Anna worried that she missed out on all the fun life could be. They were about to go on an amazing adventure and she wanted Elsa to be as excited as she was. Which was incredibly excited. So excited that she could float all the way to Pine Tree. When the train rounded the bend, however, she figured she could settle for a train ride.

“When was the last time we took one of these?”

“…It’s certainly been awhile.” The train rolled past with an impressive gush of air, blowing their braids back from their faces and billowing their coats. It came to a slow, squealing stop just past the end of the platform. At the end of one of the cars, a door popped open and a tall, square man in a uniform jumped off. Elsa jerked her head down towards where he was standing. They hobbled under the weight of their luggage until the man spotted them.

“Here, ladies! Allow me.” His bristly mustache moved under the width of his smile. It was a strange style. Anna raised an eyebrow trying to discern where his mustache ended and his sideburns began. It didn’t appear to have an end. He took both of their suitcases with little effort and lugged them up the steps into the car. 

“He makes it look easy.” Anna whispered to Elsa. She nodded in dumb amazement.

“All aboard ladies. We have a schedule to keep!” He called back over his shoulder. They scrambled up the metal steps after him. Anna paused just inside the little alcove. The smell of exhaust filled her nose, momentarily drowning out the fragrance of the city she’d come to call home. She looked back out at the little station, the street lights beyond and thought of Aunt Gerda and Uncle Kai.

The train began to chug and move. She nearly fell back off into the platform with the sudden jerking. Just as she straightened herself, she noticed the doors to the station bursting open and two, well-dressed men raced towards towards the still open door she was standing in.

“Anna, get in here!” Elsa called.

“Wait! There’s someone trying to get on!” She tried to yell back, but the train was slowly picking up speed. Her voice was lost in the din of turning wheels. The men were gaining, but they were each hauling their baggage, which was no doubt slowing them down.

“Here!” She stretched out her hand as they came within reaching distance. The first man clearly didn’t need her assistance. With his free hand, he caught the handlebar and swung himself up and in, just barely missing taking her along with him. Anna yelped as she pressed herself back and out of his way.

“Kristoff, come on!”

“You try running in this suit!” The other man shouted. He came alongside the train and tossed his bag up towards them. Anna and the other passenger caught it between them. She nearly dropped her side. What did he have in there, rocks? The other man fumbled under its weight. She turned her attention back towards the runner.

“Give me your hand!” She called out. They were very quickly running out of platform. The man eyed her slim fingers warily but reached out anyway. He really didn’t have much of a choice. Anna pulled. He jumped. The platform disappeared.

Perhaps, they had over done it. The man flew into the alcove so fast Anna didn’t have the time to move. The backs of her knees caught on the upper step and she bent backwards, bringing him along with her. That’s where Elsa found her, crumpled up in a tangle of limbs with a rather winded, handsome blonde. He looked down at her in completely shock, his wide brown eyes meeting hers.

“Glad you could make it,” She wheezed with a pained smile.


	4. Chapter 4

For a few, awkward moments, Anna found herself able to do nothing but stare up in astonishment at the man she'd help hop the train. He seemed just as surprised as she was. She could feel their hands still clasped between their bodies. She hadn't been this close to a man since Hans had cornered her in the dressing room, though she understood this was a little different. This man wasn't pinning her to the train floor against her will. He'd just jumped into a speeding train, which was a crazy feat in and of itself. But he wasn't exactly moving either. She peered up at him as his eyes trailed down her face, lingering for a heart-stopping moment on her parted lips.

“What is this, the best two out of three?” Elsa finally interjected. She bent and tugged at Anna's coat. The man snapped back to himself and fumbled off of her with a garbled apology. She didn't realize just how heavy he was until she was free. He towered over her, offering a hand as she attempted to push herself up on the uneven surface. Elsa held her steady by the belt on her coat but she still ended up stumbling on the narrow steps. Beyond the open doorway, the rest of the city began to meld into the countryside. She just caught sight of the final street light disappearing before Kristoff shifted and blocked her view. 

“Here, um, we should get inside...since we're on the train.” She nodded.

“Yeah, of course, on the train. Just going to get on the train.” Anna blushed and stopped her babbling.

“Good job, Kristoff! And you said you couldn't run!” Kristoff shot the man a pretty sour look over her shoulder. “Here, miss.” Anna turned carefully in place and hopped up into the compartment between the cars. Kristoff followed closely behind. The four of them awkwardly arranged themselves in the small, jostling area, a bit unsure of where to go or how to proceed. The two men were quite big, both tall, though the blonde was certainly more stocky than the other. Anna squinted at their faces in the low light. They seemed familiar, but she couldn't place them. Perhaps she had seen them in the lounge. There were always so many faces at the tables whirling by as they moved around the stage.

“Yoo-hoo!” The conductor appeared behind them, still smiling, holding his ticket puncher at the ready. “Tickets?” He punctuated his request with a few, succinct clicks of his puncher. 

“Yes, of course, tickets-” Elsa began to dig in her coat pocket. The man with Kristoff watched Elsa expectantly as she switched to the second pocket, with no luck. “I don't have them.” The color drained from her face. She looked up at Anna with dawning horror. 

“Oh no. That's no good.” The conductor piped up.

“Wait, what? They were in your coat pocket-” Anna grabbed Elsa's coat and shoved her hand inside. There wasn't anything there. She tried the other one, ignoring her sister's yowl when she spun her around.

“I'm telling you, they're not there!” 

“But we're already on the train!” Anna turned to the conductor, watching them with sympathy, and clasped her hands in front of her. “Please don't throw us off! We need to get to Pine Tree.”

“Well, you can always buy two more. Forty dollars each.”

“Forty?” Kristoff snorted. The conductor nodded matter-of-factly, oblivious to his new passengers' grumpy tone.

“Yes, forty. Will you two also be buying tickets?” 

“No, we have tickets-”

“Not to Pine Tree.” Kristoff said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“We have tickets to Pine Tree!” Elsa wailed. “Or we did. How am I going to tell Aunt Gerda about this?” She buried her face in her hands. 

“It's alright, Elsa. We have the money.” She wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulder. They did have the wad of cash in Elsa's purse (hopefully that was still there) from Aunt Gerda and Uncle Kai. Purchasing replacement tickets hadn't necessarily been part of the budget. Two new tickets would nearly wipe them out. But it would be alright, Anna thought, because the job at the inn paid well. They'd get the first installment of their salary within a week. A minor setback, really, in the grand scheme of things.

The floating sensation that had threatened to pull her from the station platform slowly disappeared. Anna pressed a light kiss to the top of Elsa's head, buried in the crook of her neck, and spared a glance at the men she'd helped on the train. The blonde was very pointedly looking at the dulled, scuffed toes of his shoes. His companion, however, seemed absolutely delighted. He was smiling widely, like someone had just told him a joke. Anna frowned in confusion as he reached into his suit coat and pulled out a couple of tickets, stained and sporting damp, dirty spots.

“You dropped these in the alley, I believe.” He bowed with a flourish. Anna gasped. Elsa's head shot up from her shoulder. She jumped when she saw their once-missing tickets so grandly presented in front of their faces. It was like magic. 

“And you-” Elsa couldn't continue. She slowly took the proffered tickets with glistening eyes. “Why would you-”

“I'm Sven. This is my brother, Kristoff.” Sven motioned towards the blonde who, not long ago, had been on top of Anna. He nodded, gaze flicking back and forth between them, settling once more on her lips. “We're just happy to help.”

“Thank you so much!” Anna leapt forward and captured Sven in a tight embrace. He laughed and returned the gesture with enthusiasm. Elsa kept her distance, but she could hear her muttering another thank you to Kristoff. He didn't seem nearly as happy with their good deed as Sven. He stood quietly, solid as stone, until Anna decided he needed to loosen up. 

“Thank you too, Kristoff!” She leaned up and over, reaching as best she could to place a kiss on his cheek. She ended up missing. Her lips just brushed the lower part of his jaw, catching the short, spiky stubble growing there. The faint smell of pine emanated from the collar of his shirt. She found it strange in a unique, alluring way that a man could smell like pine in the city. Hans always smelled like smoke or booze. Sometimes, he would smell like the cheap cologne in the bathrooms. But never like woods, fresh and natural.

Kristoff's earlier flush returned with a vengeance. It was hard to see in the low light of the compartment, but she was close enough that she could watch it creep over his cheeks, the rounded edge of his nose and into his ears, partially obscured by his ruffled hair. 

“...It was his idea.” He muttered after a moment.

“Thank you. How can we ever repay you?” Elsa stepped forward.

“Simply sharing your company for the evening would be repayment enough. Come on, we've been in this smoky, noisy cubby hole for far too long.” Sven beamed. Anna and Elsa shrugged, completely missing Kristoff's death glare.

“So, tickets?” The conductor asked again, puncher poised.

-

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No! We're supposed to going back to the studio. We have-”

“If you say we have work to do, one more time, I swear I will drown myself in the punch.” Sven smacked the formica tabletop of the booth they'd commandeered. Their drinks bounced, the ice in the glasses clinking against their glasses. “Everyone else with a brain is enjoying the holidays and taking a vacation.”

Kristoff leaned back into the seat and quickly looked around the club car. There wasn't a single other soul drinking there, save for them, so he didn't feel too bad about their raised voices. The rest of the glossy red tables were unoccupied and clean.Dinner service no doubt ended long ago, before everyone had a chance to get off at the major stops or retired to their beds to spend the rest of the ride in slumber. No one else to disturb but the bartender, who appeared to be busily reading something just below the bar. The man's head was bowed, his back turned towards them at the end of the club car's line of cushioned booths.

“We are not everyone else-”

But Sven did not understand that argument. To him, they were just like everyone else. Blockbuster musical revues and productions were concepts that existed in the ether around them. Their accomplishments hung like the ornaments on a tree, pretty to look at but with very little bearing on their lives. And every time Kristoff tried to explain it, he'd just shake his head.

Tonight was no different.

Sven shook his head dismissively and said, “There are two beautiful women about to join us for a drink. Are you going to be a grouch throughout the entire evening?” 

“That depends. Are you really trying to talk me into going to spend Christmas at a damn inn in some one-horse town named after a tree?” He sassed. Something gave him the feeling that there wasn't enough gin in the world to drown this idea. Sven waggled his eyebrows.

“Maybe.”

“You're unbelievable. Ma is going to be mad, you know that right?”

“Until I tell her who we're with.” Sven pointed a long finger at Kristoff, mischief evident in his eyes. “Then, I'll be a hero.”

“Whatever.” Kristoff growled. “I'm getting another drink.”  
-

“Do you think Kristoff and Sven seem...familiar?” Anna called through the bathroom door in their room. She adjusted the straps of her dress in the mirror. It was just a simple old thing she'd kept around, plain but comfortable. Meeting a couple of men in a train's club car didn't exactly seem like the kind of event to break out the tulle and silk chiffon for. Still, she frowned as she twisted in the mirror, it was rather simple. And boring. Weren't they supposed to be in show business? Anna pantomimed holding a long cigarette holder in her hands, like she'd seen in one of the movies playing on the televisions in the store windows. 

“Not really. Why would you think that?” Elsa responded. Anna could barely hear her over the rolling wheels.

“I don't know. They just...They have those kind of faces.” She blew an invisible stream of smoke, grimacing at how childish she looked. What if they smoked? Elsa would have her head if she ever accepted one. She threw away her fake cigarette and instead fiddled with her twin braids. Hans never offered her a cigarette or a cigar. He turned his nose up at women who used tobacco. Elsa's philosophy be damned; If anyone ever gave her the opportunity to blow smoke in his face for a change, she'd take it.

“I suppose.” The bathroom door opened and Elsa hurried out, dressed in a clean shirt and a modest woolen skirt. She joined Anna in the mirror, turning this way and that. “Ah, that's better. Ready?” She moved to collect her cashmere cardigan from the bed and Anna's beside it. “Here, it's a bit cold.”

“You just want me to cover my shoulders.” Anna murmured. She tugged the soft cardigan on over her arms. Elsa tugged on her own, not bothering to hide her smug look.

“That too. But mostly I want you to keep warm.” She breezed by and Anna stuck out her tongue.

“That's a load of horse feathers, if I've ever heard one.” 

-

The club car was all the way at the rear of the train. They trekked through the cars with careful steps, unused to the strange rolling sensation beneath their feet. They passed the conductor in a little group of facing seats. He waved a little hello as they moved onwards, eyes wide at the amount of tickets and paperwork surrounding him.

“I didn't realize there were that many other people on the train.” Anna said.

“It's late. They're probably all asleep.” Elsa answered. “We're not used to normal hours any more.”

Anna supposed not. More often than not, they were not trekking back to the little hovel they called home until well after midnight. The patrons of the Westergard Gardens did not like to be reminded of the last call and many would hang around long after close. Sometimes, when a crowd was being especially raucous, Hans would make them redress and head back on for one number. The chorus girls hated this most. They were always kind of touchy, but they were especially rank when Hans would pull that stunt.

The inn was going to be different, Anna thought as they approached their destination. The Westergard Gardens was a start, but the Pine Tree Inn was their new beginning.

“I should have worn a different dress.” She lamented to herself as Elsa pulled open the door and stepped into the quiet car. Kristoff and Sven were seated in the far booth, talking low across the table. Anna noticed Kristoff's eyes shoot up towards them and Sven whirled around. 

“Ladies! What will it be?”

“Just water please. For both of us.” Elsa shot Anna a look when she started to complain.

“Yes, water will do just fine.” She grumped. Sven laughed once again and clapped his hands amusedly.

“Then water it shall be. Go get comfortable. And don't be afraid of Kristoff. His bark is much worse than his bite.” He winked at each of them before heading to the bartender to get their glasses. Elsa seemed wary after his remark. She grabbed Anna's arm behind her and steered her into the seat across from the sour-looking blonde.

“I don't bark or bite.” He mumbled. He turned his head towards the window, giving them a view of his strong profile. That's when Anna noticed. 

“I've seen you before.” She said quietly, adjusting her skirts beneath her, eyes glued to the distinct bridge of his nose and the disaffected, tired pull to his features. 

“Oh, have you?” Kristoff replied dryly. Anna frowned. Sven hadn't been kidding. He didn't turn away from the window, though the world outside was black, and the only thing the glass showed was their own reflections staring back at them.

“Yes. I've seen...it was a picture.” She fumbled for the right words, looking to Elsa as if her sister knew what she was trying to say. Elsa just shrugged.

“I think I know the one you're talking about. The feature in Vogue?” Sven returned, setting their waters down before them with grace. Elsa's shoulders went stiff.

“...Vogue?” 

“Yeah. It wasn't my idea.” Kristoff scooted over so Sven could sit. His legs bumped up against Anna's under the table. She was too shell-shocked to pull her own knees closer. “I wouldn't have done any feature at all except my brother here thought it was a good idea.”

“It was a good idea.”

“Sven,” He nodded at the mention of his name, “and Kristoff...Bjorgman?”

“Yes!” Sven exclaimed. “So you have heard of us!” He smacked Kristoff in the arm as if this was just the best news ever. “You hear that, Kristoff?”

“It's kind of what happens when you're in show business.” He grumbled, keeping his face turned anywhere but towards the girls.

“Oh my gosh,” Anna whispered, leaning her head into her palms and feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Kristoff Bjorgman, one of the most celebrated producers and composers of their time, had been laying on top of her on a train coupling. And his brother, one of the most talented dancers and choreographers to ever grace Broadway, had rescued their tickets – and their trip – from a rather uncertain fate. She twisted her head to get a glance at Elsa, looking between the two much a frightened deer between two wolves.

“I'm sorry. I'm confused.” 

“We're kind of famous,” Sven off-handedly acknowledged with a bored roll of his head, “but that's not really important-”

“Wait, what?” Elsa said breathlessly. 

“Broadway,” Anna hinted, “I really wish you would have let me have a drink.”

“Yes, but-” Sven once more tried to interject. 

“Broadway? So you're saying,” Elsa shook her head, the exchange finally hitting her, “Oh my goodness, I...You must think we're complete imbeciles. I apologize for earlier this evening. We're much more organized than that, I swear-”

“Why do we care how organized you are?” Kristoff glared at Sven when he smacked him upside the head for his remark.

“Nonsense. You were obviously in a hurry. It was a great number too, but as I was saying-”

“You saw our act?” It was Anna's turn to cut him off this time. He sighed in growing frustration as she bounced a bit in place. “What did you think? Did you like it? Were out outfits right? Maybe we need new moves? Do you think I should dye my hair-”

“Yes, we'd love to know your thoughts, if you don't mind. We've just started and its been a bit of a rough go-” 

“What did you think of the song? We wrote it together. Our aunt helped us with the melody. She's the one who taught us how to sing and play the piano.” Anna gushed. Kristoff opened his mouth to respond, but Sven could no longer be contained. He half rose off his seat.

“It was great, a great song for the act, but what I'm trying to say is that-”

“We already know each other.” Kristoff finished for him. Anna watched a satisfied smile spread across his face, the first one she'd seen him share all night. Stunned into silence, she blinked at the men before her, then turned to Elsa. Her sister was giving her a similar stare.

“You just had to go and spoil my fun.” Sven whined, sitting himself back down.


	5. Chapter 5

The estate was modest but to two little girls, it was a wide world full of wonder, just aching to be explored. Even in the winter, they prowled the little wood that separated the house from the lane, finding adventure in every hollowed stump, very fallen branch. When the wood became too predictable, they found new excitement in a once-hidden little fish pond, revealed by their father's meddling with the shrubbery just below the gentle slope of the back yard. 

The water was muddied and brown, but when the sun shone at just the right angle, one could see the rich brown silt in the shallows and the tiny minnows darting between the algae and underwater weeds. They kneeled along the damp, mossy bank and watched in awe at the signs of life beneath the foamy surface of the water. There were turtles living in the depths, just one or two. They would sun themselves lazily on one of the soggy branches when the weather was warm.

“That one's name is Leaf because he's green.” Anna announced one sunny afternoon as they watched from a respectable distance.

“What about that one?” Elsa pointed towards its partner, just a slightly darker shade of green. The turtle blinked slowly and sleepy, thoroughly bored of the whole discussion.

“Tree.”

“Why tree?”

“Because they're brothers.” Elsa nodded. That made perfect sense to her.

The turtles disappeared beneath the water as winter approached. Ice began to crust over and harden the shores. When it was fully frozen over, Papa and Mama took them down to teach them to skate. Elsa was scared at first. Balancing on the blades felt different than anything she had ever experienced. She held onto Papa's finger as he led them out onto the ice. Anna whined at being left behind. Mama was still trying to tie her skates.

“Anna, dear, hold still.”

“I want to go with Elsa.”

“And you will, but I need to tie your laces first.” Papa turned an easy circle on his skates, gently tugging Elsa along as she attempted to follow his lines. She watched the way his body turned and angled itself as he did another slow loop. The strange feeling was starting to dull. They turned another circle before she felt more confident in her legs. 

“You're a natural!” Papa exclaimed as she let go of his finger and headed out on her own. “You must take after your mother.” 

“Very funny, Papa.” Mama and Anna had finally joned them on the pond but they were not nearly as graceful as Elsa and Papa. They fumbled and slid. Anna seemed to fall every couple of seconds. She never once wailed. A determined set to her rounded jaw, she tottered after every loop and circle Elsa completed.

“Here, Anna!” Elsa grasped her sister's hands and began to pull her. “Follow me!” Anna laughed as Elsa led her around the pond. Only when Mama and Papa insisted they go inside for hot cocoa and a story under warm blankets did Anna begin to fuss.

“No, I want to skate more with Elsa.” She clutched her arms around Papa's neck as Mama helped remove her skates. Elsa untied hers all by herself.

“Later, dear.” Mama chided. “You're cold as ice.”

But Elsa understood. She wanted to stay skating too. Even after the hot cocoa had been drained and Mama and Papa had settled in by the piano to sing a few Christmas carols, her mind kept dragging her back to the pond. The lean muscles in her legs tensed with the memory of pushing off on the blades. She grew sleepy by the fire in the hearth as Anna's voice joined her parents'. They launched into O, Christmas Tree, oblivious to Elsa's drifting eyes and mind.

They were told to stay away from the pond unless Mama and Papa was there. But early that next morning, when the world had just started to awaken from the long, cold night, Elsa could see no harm in going out by herself. She crept out of bed, careful to avoid the squeaky spots on the floor that could wake Anna, and made her way down the mud room to get her coat and mittens. It took a few minutes to pull her skates down from the hook Papa had hung them on. The hook was too high for her to reach. She needed to arrange a wary assortment of boxes and platforms in order to lift the tied laces from their hangar.

“What are you doing?” Elsa tottered on her precarious perch, turning in surprise at the sound of her sister's voice.

“Go back to bed, Anna.”

“Are you going skating?”

“...No.”

“You are, you are-” She began to jump up and down excitedly, still in her flannel night shirt. Elsa shushed her quickly.

“Quiet or you'll wake them!” 

“Get my skates too! I want to come too!” She whispered loudly, digging around in the nearby deacon's bench for her hat and mittens. 

They waddled carefully out to the pond, bundled little shadows with their skates dragging in the snow behind them. The wood around them was a murky shadow of tree trunks and brush. They weren't afraid. The wood was as much home to them as their own bedroom.

Elsa tied her skates, then Anna's, clucking at her the same way Mama did when she just couldn't hold herself still.

“We have to be back before Mama and Papa wake up.” Elsa told her.

“Come on, let's go.” They glided out onto the ice, Anna immediately going to her knees. She laughed. They slid around on their knees for awhile, until Elsa stood up and began to practice her figure-eights.

“One day, I want to be as good as Papa.” 

“Me too!” Anna held out her hands each time Elsa passed. “Pull me again!”

“No, I want to go faster.”

“Pull me!” Anna whined, her voice beginning to echo.

“Alright, fine. Just don't shout.” Elsa grabbed Anna's hands without stopping. Anna stuttered a bit on her blades at the sudden force. Soon enough, she was hooting and hollering.

“Faster!” They swirled around and around the pond, the force of Elsa's turns getting tighter and tighter. Anna, a bit steadier on her feet, began to push back, increasing their pace.

“Anna, wait-”

“Keep going!”

“Anna, I-” The toe of her blade suddenly hooked into the ice and she pitched forward hard onto her knees. The hand not holding Anna's came up to soften her fall, but she still ended up slamming her forehead hard into her elbow. The force of the hit dazed her. She let go of Anna's hand.

Her own heartbeat pulsed hard in her ears. She looked up slowly. Her knees hurt. She was glad she hadn't fallen before. Falling was a painful thing. 

“Anna, are you-” There was a crumpled little ball of pink gingham just ahead of her. It wasn't moving. Elsa gasped and scrabbled forward, ignoring the soreness in her knees. She set an uncertain palm on Anna's side and shook her. “Anna!” There was no answer. Anna remained still. Elsa tugged on her jacket to roll her over. Above, crows began to caw. Their calls were loud and grating. The harsh noise echoed through the wood.

There was a crack in the ice where Anna's forehead had connected. When Elsa pulled her up and away from the surface, she saw it. The long, spider-like veins were tinted pink. A long gash had split the skin from her downy hairline to the tip of her eyebrow and it was weeping blood, thick and crimson. This was not like the scrapes they had gotten on their knees and elbows. She had never seen that color before, so deep it was almost black.

Elsa cautiously pulled Anna's wounded head into her lap. No matter how she pleaded or begged, Anna's eyes would not open. Something warm and wet seeped into the front of her coat as she bent protectively over her sister and began to cry.

She screamed as loud and as long as she could for Papa. Even after he and Mama came racing down the hill from the house, even after Mama had taken Anna into her arms, she screamed.

-

Elsa squirmed a bit in her seat. Beneath the table, Anna caught sight of her hands wringing each other with efficiency in her lap. Without hesitation, she reached over and intertwined her fingers between Elsa's and gave her a comforting squeeze.

“You're right. That was a long time ago.” Elsa said, desperately trying to recover her earlier, courteous tone. Her voice was still somewhat shaky.

“I needed a lot of stitches.” Anna reached up and lifted the fringe of her bangs to show Kristoff and Sven the long, thin scar. “Your mom did a great job. No one ever notices.”

“She had a lot of practice with us running around.” Sven joked. He lifted his chin up to reveal a pink line running like a strap beneath his jaw. “I'm just happy to see someone from back home. It's been too long.” He began to arrange the little glass salt and pepper shakers in a line between them. Kristoff looked on silently, his face a mask of indifference, but Anna could see the glassy sheen in his brown eyes. 

“Years,” Anna whispered, “We haven't been back since...” She didn't quite know how to finish the sentence. She settled, instead, for simply adding her own piece to the puzzle. There was a display stand advertising the dinner specials. Anna plucked it from beside the napkin dispenser and placed it at the head of the line. Sven smiled and pulled over the glass vial of wrapped toothpicks. Together, the trinkets created a perfect slope, from tallest to shortest. 

For a moment, she was lost in a gauzy web of memories, somewhere in a small town with similar inclines, where the houses had peaked roofs and little winding roads. There was a bakery on the main street that made the whole charming area smell like fresh bread from the oven and on the other side was a darling chocolate shop with a window display that could many anyone drool. Anna hoped it was still there. So many things could have happened in the time since they left. Were the pedestal tables still poised around the magnificent displays? Did the kind old woman with the salt-and-pepper hair still work behind the counter? Her stomach grumbled remembering the delicious delicacies inside.

“Have you been to the Gardens before?” Elsa asked, trying to reignite the conversation. 

“Oh, heavens no,” Sven just barely swallowed the last gulp of his drink, “Tonight was our first night-”

“And thankfully our last,” Kristoff grimaced, “My shoes stuck to the floor.” Anna laughed and Kristoff smiled a little. She was pleased to shave garnered some sort of reaction from him at last. 

“Ours too,” She said with a sigh, “It really did seem like a nice place when we first started. And Hans even offered us an apartment-”

“An apartment?” Kristoff interrupted.

“Yeah, as long as we played at the Gardens,” Anna continued on, ignorant of Elsa's increasing blush, “but it was a really terrible apartment. More like a room actually. It wasn't very nice, but he said it was, so we thought it would be a great deal-”

“Hold on,” Kristoff leaned closer over the table, shoving his drink aside, “You took the act and the apartment?”

“Yes, pay attention.” Anna rolled her eyes at Elsa in disbelief. Kristoff scoffed. “But the apartment wasn't nice and Hans wasn't very nice and our Aunt had this friend-”

“How soon after you met that slimeball did you accept that agreement?” Anna frowned. She was beginning to think she liked it better when Kristoff had been silent. She didn't appreciate his tone at all. He sat across from her, giving her a stern, appraising look.

“Well, it was all pretty quick actually-” Elsa tried to interject. Anna huffed and placed her hands flat on the table so she could pull herself a bit closer over the tabletop.

“What does that matter?”

“This is show business, feisty pants,” He replied with a smirk, “Everybody's got an angle. You've just got to find out what it is.”

“That's a pretty cynical point of view.” She bit back. He quirked an eyebrow at her. Why did it feel like he was reading her like a book? 

“That may be so, but I'm right, aren't I?” When she didn't immediately respond, he smirked. Anna fumed.

“Hans wasn't exactly forthcoming,” Elsa admitted, “but that's all behind us now.”

“Agreed!” Sven quickly followed up. Kristoff and Anna continued to stare each other down. “It sounds like the inn will be a nice gig. Kristoff and I were thinking of joining you actually. Pine Tree should be lovely this time of year. All that snow!” He rubbed his hands together excitedly. Kristoff made a little groaning noise in his throat.

“Wait, you two are also going to Pine Tree?” Anna asked incredulously. “You're not going back to Arendelle?”

“Apparently not.” Kristoff answered. They glanced at one another one more time, before Anna looked away, fighting the heat burning at her ears. 

-

“Can you believe him?” Anna said through a mouthful of chocolate. How lucky they were that Aunt Gerda had thought to pack some snacks for the trip. 

They'd returned to their compartment not too long after Sven's announcement they'd be going to the inn in Pine Tree. He and Elsa had tried to fill the awkward emptiness with small talk. They'd almost erased Kristoff and Anna's little argument, until Sven tried to lead the table in a quick carol and Kristoff had obstinately refused to provide a round.

“I don't sing with people.” He said firmly, much to Sven's consternation and Anna's shock.

“How is that even possible?” Anna plucked another piece for the tray. “He was just being a grump for grump's sake.”

“You don't know that.” Elsa replied. She perched on the edge of Anna's bunk and brushed out her braid. When finished, she turned to Anna and started to do the same. 

“Oh yes, I do.” 

“Whatever. I'm still just overwhelmed by the sheer coincidence of it all. Hey, don't eat all of those!” Elsa reached over and took one of the last chocolates. 

“I'm sorry, but he just made me so mad!” 

“Let it go. I'm sure he'll be better tomorrow. Besides,” She popped the chocolate into her mouth, “He did have a point about-”

“Don't say it.” Anna sulked. “I don't want to hear it.”

Elsa sighed, “Alright, alright. Enough with the chocolate; It's time for bed.” She took the box out of Anna's clutches, glaring at her when she attempted to cling to it tighter, and stuffed it back into her own open suitcase. 

-

Kristoff fell into bed with a heavy, dull thud. He groaned in relief as his tired muscles began to relax. The compartment was cool and dark and the steady rocking and rolling was doing wonders for his tattered nerves. He liked train rides. They were better than boats, certainly better than airplanes. 

“That was a good night.” Sven sleepily murmured from the other bunk. 

“It wasn't bad.” His words were muffled with his face pressed into the pillowcase. The clean smelling fabric was heaven after the exhaust fumes of the train and the rank odor of the Westergard Gardens. Freshly laundered linens always reminded him of home.

“So are you going to finally relax? Can we have some fun like we used to?” Sven asked, voice getting low with slumber. 

“We can spare a couple of days.” His last words drifted into the darkness of the compartment and a pair of burning blue eyes boring into his own from across a ridiculous table setting arrangement, accompanied him into sleep.


End file.
